Infinitely Losing My Edge
Yeah, I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge.
The kids are coming up from behind.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge to the kids from Argentina and from Paris.
But I was there.
I was there in .
I was there at the first Suicide show in New York.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge to the kids whose footsteps I hear when they get on the decks.
I'm losing my edge to the internet seekers who can tell me every member of every good group from 1969 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Winnipeg and Tehran.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Accra kids in little jackets and borrowed nostalgia for the unremembered nineties.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge.
I can hear the footsteps every night on the decks.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977 at the first Mistral practice in a loft in Amsterdam.
I was working on the sitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine started up his first band.
I told him, "Don't do it that way. You'll never make a dime."
I was there.
I was the first guy playing Kerrie Biddell to the rap kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
Everybody thought I was crazy.
We all know.
I was there.
I was there.
I've never been wrong.
But I'm losing my edge to better-looking people with better ideas and more talent.
And they're actually really, really nice.
I'm losing my edge.
I heard you have a compilation of every good song ever done by anybody.
Every great song by The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band. All the underground hits.
All Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Joy Division record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a John Holt record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Spandau Ballet,
Subhumans,
Glambeats Corp.,
Tom Boy,
The Neon Judgement,
Silicon Teens,
The Modern Lovers,
Tears for Fears,
The Dead C,
Anakelly,
Porter Ricks,
Jeff Mills,
New Order,
Sonic Youth,
Adolescents,
U.S. Maple,
Khruangbin,
The Happenings,
Peter & Gordon,
a-ha,
Kool Moe Dee,
The Dirtbombs,
Glenn Branca,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Cymande,
Tomorrow,
Bauhaus,
Delon & Dalcan,
Franke,
Ultimate Spinach,
Marine Girls,
The Count Five,
The Black Dice,
Bang On A Can,
10cc,
Groovy Waters,
Aswad,
Crime,
Accadde A,
Youth Brigade,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Newcleus,
Au Pairs,
ABBA,
Echospace,
The Music Machine,
Mad Mike,
Gang Green,
8 Eyed Spy,
Erykah Badu,
X-Ray Spex,
Wolf Eyes,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Aaron Thompson,
Gastr Del Sol,
Prince Buster,
Jeru the Damaja,
Sandy B,
48th St. Collective,
Grandmaster Flash,
Quantec, Quantec, Quantec, Quantec.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.